


Four Times Cas Caught Dean Shirtless and One Time it was Intentional

by PieFilledTears



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 5 Times, Destiel - Freeform, Fallen Castiel, First Kiss, First Time, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Injuries, Perdition, Realization, Swimming, Tattoos, cas - Freeform, perdition fic, slight AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-30
Updated: 2013-05-30
Packaged: 2017-12-13 11:22:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/823722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PieFilledTears/pseuds/PieFilledTears
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From perdition to a fallen angel, Cas always seemed to find Dean at the most inopportune moments</p>
            </blockquote>





	Four Times Cas Caught Dean Shirtless and One Time it was Intentional

**Author's Note:**

> Starts at Perdition and ends with some nice smut for your troubles, slight AU where Cas stays fallen after Swan Song. I hope it's fun to read, it was almost two months in the making, I have to say I prefer writing pwp but I wanted some depth this time

The first time that Castiel saw Dean shirtless was the first moment he met him. 

Castiel had fought his way to the bottom of the pit, his grace dissolving demons and hell-fire as he searched for a single soul amongst the wreckage. He felt a disturbance in the onslaught of demons, a soul that wasn’t completely gone, and he darted towards it. Dean Winchester’s soul was alone in a dark corner of hell, with only the remains of hundreds of innocent souls he had torn to shreds with his own hands.   
As Castiel approached, Dean felt his power and tried to run, but Castiel engulfed his form, trapping him inside of his grace. The Winchester stood inside of his grace, giving a defiant stance against the intruder, but Castiel could see the panic in his eyes.

He felt a moment of sympathy for this lost soul. 

His Father’s original orders were to forcefully pull this man from Hell no matter the cost, but instead Castiel slowly lowered himself into a human form, and walked towards the righteous man.

“Dean Winchester.” His voice echoed powerfully through the chaos, his grace protecting them from curious demons trying to break through.

“Who are you?” the Winchester hissed in response, defiance but also a touch of human curiosity laced his voice. Castiel could feel the remnants of his humanity, but there was no hope, no happiness, he had come too late.

Castiel felt a wave of foreign emotion pass through him. He had watched over this man since birth, seen him become a strong yet promiscuous young man. He had allowed his deal to take place; he had allowed it to pass. But he had felt pain all the while to see something that he had protected be torn down into what was before him now. He took a step forward.

“Would you like to go home?” he asked. He wanted to give Dean a choice, a chance to save himself. But most of all, Castiel wanted to assure himself that he had not completely lost the man he had been given to protect. 

Dean’s eyes widened in shock, then he laughed. It was a cold laugh, nothing like you would find on earth. It was heartless and mocking. 

“You can’t save me,” he spat, “I don’t deserve to be saved.”

Castiel took a step closer so that he and Dean were mere inches apart. Dean’s face shown of defiance now, but he could see his eyes. His eyes used to be so green; they were almost colorless now, the light of life had left him long ago. 

“I can bring you home,” he said honestly, he had all of the time in the world; his grace would protect them for as long as they needed. “You are a righteous man, Dean Winchester; you have so much waiting for you.” Dean didn’t budge, then Castiel remembered a crucial part of Dean’s past. 

“Sam is waiting for you.”

And that was it.

He watched Dean’s resolve break, a tear slowly rolled down Dean’s cheek, his humanity overflowing as he nearly crumpled into Castiel’s arms, emotions flooding back into his empty shell. 

“Just get me out of here” he sobbed. Emotions had no place in hell, it was overwhelming, Castiel could feel demons swarming around his soul’s rediscovered life.   
Castiel wrapped his arms around his broken man and shot straight out of Hell, his grace so elated that he lit up the entirety of Hell in a bright white light for a single moment.

 

Next, Castiel was underground. In a grave. He held Dean Winchester’s soul safely near his core as he stared down at his corpse. It looked almost nothing like the broken soul he had just saved. 

He reached out with his grace, he felt the life return to Dean’s skin; his face began to look human again. Cas could feel Dean’s body becoming whole again, reversing death into the beauty of life.  
But Castiel knew that his body was not quite correct. It looked like a human, but not like Dean. 

Castiel let himself lean into Dean. He roamed his grace over his skin. He let his fingers fall over Dean’s chest to every blemish and scar and healed them over. His hands graced his head, Dean’s body arching as his hair grew out again, every strand of dirty blonde hair exactly as Castiel remembered from so long ago. Finally, Castiel let his hand cup Dean’s cheek and let one of the most beautiful aspects of Dean’s form spill from his fingers. Dean’s freckles settled along his nose and cheeks. Castiel could feel his grace smile at his work. 

He placed a final hand on his shoulder and let Dean’s soul lose within his body, leaving a brand upon not only his skin but his soul. And with Dean’s first gasping breath, Castiel was gone. 

 

~

 

The second time that Cas saw Dean shirtless, he was still new to humanity’s quirks. 

Castiel had just received revelation from his superiors. A test was to be set up for Dean Winchester which coincided with one of the minor seals. He had immediately located his charge to be in a small town in Wyoming. 

He flew into the small motel room and looked around. There was no sign of Sam other than a disheveled bed and an abandoned rifle. He looked around the empty room to no avail, but Dean had to be here.   
A single note of music caught Castiel’s attention. He looked around curiously. 

The note extended seamlessly into more notes until he realized it was a song.

Castiel was never a fan of music, most likely because he had never truly been exposed to it. But this song sounded different. It sounded gruff, but the tune was slow and smooth. He realized it was Dean’s voice filling the silence.

It was so different, so foreign to hear such a sweet tune coming from Dean’s harsh mouth. Castiel began to follow his voice as it echoed quietly from a small door in the corner of the room. Castiel stayed silent as Dean’s words became faster, louder until he knew that Dean had reached the climax of the song. 

Castiel was transfixed as Dean’s singing slowed to a stop, his voice becoming gruffer as the words lost their tempo. As the last few bars soaked through the door he reached for the handle and twisted slowly, hoping not to ruin the ending. 

He opened the door and stepped inside to find a surprising sight. Not only had the song ended, but the sound of pounding water replaced it. And Dean no longer looked as peaceful as he had imagined.  
Dean whipped around and nearly slipped on the wet shower tiles. Cas couldn’t help but stare in confusion as water drenched Dean’s form, rivulets streaming down his bare chest. His chest wasn't as clear as it had been a few months ago; all of the scars that he had carefully removed had been replaced by newer and more violent looking wounds, some which were still bleeding. 

He felt something stir within him, something like sadness. Dean never deserved any more scars. He wanted to heal them all again, to heal his mind and his body until he was happy and strong again, like he used to be before his soul had been scarred. 

And he didn’t know why he wanted this more than anything.

“Cas, what the hell!” Dean scolded as he clumsily wrapped a towel around his lower half. Cas snapped his eyes back to Dean’s face, remembering his message. He relayed it professionally and quickly, but his eyes darted down to Dean’s broken chest again.

“I’ll be out in a minute,” Dean sighed as he turned off the water. The room got eerily quiet. “You damn angels need to learn some courtesy.”   
Then Cas was gone. 

 

~

 

The next time that Cas saw Dean without his shirt was after he had fallen. Hard. 

Cas could feel the blade rip into his thigh. His back was pressed against the cold ground helplessly as the demon drove the knife deeper into his flesh, hacking away at his nerves and spattering blood across his clothes. Cas’ ragged breathing quickened as the demon cut further up his leg, leading from his knee to his upper thigh, ripping towards his navel.

“You like that, Castiel?” the Demon taunted as he twisted the blade just right to force Cas’ eyes shut. “I've been waiting a long, long time for this moment.”

Cas knew the demon’s only goal was to torture him slowly, he forced himself to focus on anything but the pain, he had to stay awake and find a way out.

He couldn't remember the demon’s name, he couldn't see into their twisted souls anymore. His human body thrashed desperately as he clenched his teeth in a desperate attempt not to cry out, but he failed at keeping in a few pained screams. Sam and Dean weren't close by; he had insisted he could do this interview on his own, with his own FBI badge and everything. But one hit to the head had landed him on the floor with blurred vision and a deviously creative demon.

Dean had trusted him to do this and he had screwed it up because he couldn't tell who the monsters were anymore. He could feel his pants soaking up the blood now pooled around his legs. His fingernails dug painfully into his palms in a desperate attempt to break free from the demon’s psychic hold on him.

Suddenly the demon was pushed violently from his perch, the blade leaving Cas’ flesh with a sickening slurp.

The edges of Cas’ vision were turning black. He could feel the blood streaming from his wounds; he stared at the ceiling above him and focused on the sound of fighting next to him. He knew someone had come to save him, but he couldn't move, he couldn't help. He just lay there, defenseless as the demon’s ear piercing screams echoed against the walls as its damned life seeped into nothingness. 

The room was silent for a moment.

“Dammit, Cas,” Dean’s voice rung against the concrete walls. Cas felt a small spark of hope light in his chest. 

Dean moved over Cas and tapped his cheek to make sure he was still conscious, and Cas smiled weakly. Dean huffed out a smile bent down to work on his mangled leg. 

He felt Dean run a hand up his thigh to assess the damage and stopped near enough to Cas’ crotch that he flinched. It was the strangest sensation while the rest of his body screamed in agony. Dean made a disapproving noise in his throat and stripped off his shirt and knotted it tightly around his upper thigh. 

Dean tightened the makeshift tourniquet before he slipped an arm around his shoulders. Cas felt himself get scooped up in Dean’s arms and heard him call out something to Sam.

But Cas barely noticed. He was too transfixed by the mark that had appeared on Dean’s chest. It wasn't a bloody scar or any sort of dis-figuration. Instead it was self inflicted, purposefully placed to obscure his beautiful expanse of chest. The pain seemed to ebb away to a second thought as all of Cas’ attention turned to this new discovery. He didn't understand why he was so transfixed by it, maybe he was overly curious, or maybe it was a concussion. 

Cas tentatively reached out his hand and ran his fingers across the tattoo’s surface. It was warm, like Dean, with just the slightest raise against the skin of his chest. He was amazed, it should have ruined his appearance, something he had worked so hard to perfect all those years ago, yet it only enhanced him. It was like a promise. It proved that this man was Dean and would always be Dean, never a demon or a monster.

Cas could feel Dean watching him as he ran out under the night sky. He pushed his palm flat onto Dean’s chest, but his hand curled in pain as lightning shot through his veins and he blacked out.

 

Cas’ eyes fluttered open as Dean carefully laid him down on one of the motel’s beds. 

“Morning sunshine,” Dean teased as he sat next him. Cas tried to sit up but his head made the world spin and he slammed back down onto his pillow.

“You’re a lucky son of a bitch, you know that?” Dean chuckled heavily. Cas looked over to see Dean was staring down at his hands, his bare chest taking up most of Cas’ view. Cas cocked his head slightly to the side in confusion. 

“The cuts on your stomach aren't that bad, and I guess the demon had some kind of leg fetish ‘cause he didn’t carve you up anywhere else,” he listed off, not looking at Cas.

“The demon actually hit a major artery. You were bleeding pretty bad once we got in the car, but it looks like you still have a little angel mojo left, so you’ll really only need a few stitches,” Dean shrugged and looked back towards Cas. 

Cas glanced down his towards his feet to see that his shirt was gone, in fact he was only in his bloodied boxers for the sake of modesty. Castiel didn't understand the Winchester’s uncomfortable mannerisms towards naked bodies, but Cas wouldn't have minded at the moment. His wounds had already started scabbing across his leg. 

“I guess I am lucky,” Cas sighed, looking back up to Dean’s eyes. They stayed like that for a moment before his eyes glanced down at the tattoo again and Dean laughed.

“And it looks like you’ve got a thing for tattoos.” He chuckled. Cas felt his lips turn up in a smile. “Maybe one day we’ll get you one of your own”. Cas felt himself drifting off again.

“That would be good,” he mumbled sleepily. 

“But first you’re scrubbing all the blood out of my baby’s back seat, you owe her a huge apology,” Dean said snarkily, brightening the tense mood a bit. Cas tried to roll his eyes, his senses blurring. 

“I’ll have to apologize in the morning,” he mumbled, his eyes forcing themselves closed. Right before he completely slipped away, he swore he felt something squeeze his hand. 

 

~

 

The next time Dean wasn’t wearing his shirt it was apparently completely normal. 

“Sam,” Cas called as he walked into the motel room. Sam poked his head up from behind one of the beds. 

“Yeah Cas?” 

“Have you seen Dean? I can’t seem to find him anywhere.” Dean had said he was going out for a ‘breather’, but that was over an hour ago, and with multiple djinn hunting in the area it wasn’t safe to stay out for too long, especially at night. 

“Oh, he went for a dip,” Sam replied casually. Cas stared quizzically at him for a moment.

“But why would Dean need to dip something-?”

“A swim, Cas,” Sam chuckled, “He went to hotel’s pool, you should go catch up to him.” He motioned in the direction of the pool with a flick of his head and Cas nodded a thanks. 

 

The rusty gate creaked open and Cas stepped inside, careful to close it more quietly behind him. The pool was lit with an eerie blue light that created rippling patterns across the dark buildings around it. The pool was standard, rectangular; Cas could see nothing special about it. Then Dean’s head broke the surface and disappeared just as quickly. 

Cas walked over and stood far enough away from the pool’s edge to just be able to see Dean’s distorted figure underwater. The next time he resurfaced for air he caught Cas’ figure in the corner of his eye. He whipped around, ready for an attack, but instead his face lit up when he saw him.

“Hey Cas,” he said happily, pushing back the dripping hair from his face.

“Hello,” Cas responded, he could tell Dean wasn’t able to touch the bottom; his bare legs kicked effortlessly as he kept himself afloat.

“So, do you need me for something or are you just gonna watch me tread water all night?” Dean remarked once he realized Cas wasn't going to say anything. Cas didn't think that was such a bad idea.

“What are you doing out here?” He asked.

“Having fun,” Dean shrugged.

“I don’t understand your definition of fun.”

“Just get in.” And with that Dean dipped his head back underwater and continued his lap towards the other end of the pool. Cas, seeing that Dean was in nothing but his boxers, decided he should strip down too.   
He pulled off his trench coat and placed it carefully on the ground then pulled off his t-shirt. Lately the brothers had been slowly filling his closet with different clothes, which he greatly appreciated.

Dean was swimming back towards him as he slipped off his pants and moved to sit down at the edge of the water. He tentatively lowered his feet into the pool, letting the warm water engulf his feet. 

He loved his new human senses. He could feel how the water wasn’t too cold, how it splashed against the sides when he kicked his foot forward, how different it felt from the air around him. He closed his eyes and let the chlorine soaked air fill his lungs.

Maybe Dean had the right idea for fun. 

Then something grabbed him around his ankles and pulled him roughly into the water. Cas felt a flash of panic wash over him as he was dragged underwater. He tried to kick up to the surface until he realized that he wasn’t getting anywhere, panic nearly set in. 

Then Cas felt strong arms wrap around him and his head broke the surface. He coughed heavily for a moment before he turned his head to see Dean smiling smugly, still holding him up. 

“You had to get in the water somehow,” he said innocently, and Cas flashed him his best pissed off face he could from his awkward angle. Dean shifted so that he was holding Cas with one arm around his chest and he began to stroke forward with the other.

“So I’m guessing you’re not much of a swimmer.” Dean smirked as Cas wrapped an arm around Dean’s neck. 

“I was a celestial being, Dean, not an aquatic one,” he said dryly and Dean laughed. Cas felt his feet brush against the bottom of the pool and he slowly released himself from Dean’s grip.

They both waded to the shallower side of the pool and leaned against the side. They stood in silence for a while, looking up at the dusty sky. There weren't many stars in the sky tonight. 

“So this is relaxing for you?” Cas asked quietly as a small airplane flew overhead.

Dean shrugged, “It’s not my favorite thing to do, but sometimes it’s just nice to block out all of the noise, water does that pretty well.” Cas felt Dean’s bare shoulder press against his and he realized he was probably overstepping some personal boundary rules, but Dean hadn't moved away. 

“I understand,” he responded truthfully. Humans did have it rough, he had realized, especially Dean and Sam. They deserved a break and a thank you every once in a while.

“It’s gotten better over the years,” Dean confessed, as if not quite believing his own words. “With the apocalypse over it’s been nice, you know, monster of the week kinda deal. Plus with you here just makes everything a little nicer.” Dean stopped short and Cas gave him a surprised look. Dean took a moment to pause and push his damp hair from his forehead, but he wasn't backtracking. 

“Thank you, Dean,” Cas said quietly, water lapping up against the side of the pool to fill the silence. 

Dean huffed out a small laugh, “Yeah, well, you’re welcome I guess,” he murmured, as if he was afraid to admit it, but Cas was perfectly content. Dean looked up at the dark sky again and closed his eyes- but Cas kept glancing at him.

The comfortable silence stretched on for a while, Cas wasn't sure how long, but eventually Dean jumped out of the pool and came back with two towels. 

“I want Chinese food,” he announced as he tossed Cas a towel. He caught it deftly, and slid, not too gracefully, out of the pool. 

“That would be good.” 

 

~

 

Cas stuffed his toothbrush back into his small bag and looked up at the mirror. He sighed, lightly touching his swollen eye; which had formed from a nasty punch from a shape shifter they had fought earlier that day. 

Cas ambled across the small motel room towards his bed. The room was nearly empty, Sam had gone out to burn the bodies and Dean was sitting quietly on his bed disassembling the guns. Cas came up to his air mattress and tossed his small bag onto it. 

Ever since he had fallen, the three of them have had a difficult time figuring out where Cas should sleep. The first few days, Cas had refused to sleep, but of course that didn't last for long and he ended up collapsing unceremoniously onto one of their beds, which meant Sam had to sleep on the floor that night. 

They had also tried renting Cas his own room, but after he had forgotten to put a ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign on his door and had gotten the cops called on him after the cleaning lady had seen the guns and symbols strewn across the room, they decided it wasn't the best idea to leave him alone for too long. In the end they had settled on getting a reasonably sized, yet not very comfortable, air mattress that got blown up on the floor of every motel room they stayed at, and each hunt they’d rotate who had to sleep on it.

Well, it was Cas’ turn. He threw himself down and grunted as pain shot through his shoulder from the impact. 

“You okay over there?” Dean asked, most of his focus still on reassembling a gun. 

“Fine.” He grumbled, pushing his disheveled hair from his forehead. Cas tried to roll his shoulder to get out the stiffness, but it wouldn't go away. Dean rolled his eyes and got up from his bed, the slightest limp in his leg from where a knife had gotten a good hold of his skin. Needless to say, this hunt had not been their finest. 

Dean came over and knelt next to Cas’ bed. He raised an eyebrow, silently asking for permission. Cas shot him a disgruntled look, but he turned his head away as Dean began examining his injured shoulder.

“Bullshit, Cas,” Dean decided, trying to lift up his shirt sleeve to get a better look, “take off your shirt.”

Cas grudgingly obeyed, pulling his shirt over his head to let Dean check his back. He felt Dean tentatively place a hand over his shoulder and Cas sighed at the contact. His warm fingers trailed firmly down his back, spreading out to cover more skin. For the longest time Cas just followed the trail of his roaming fingers until Dean roughly jabbed his thumb into his lower shoulder blade and he flinched away. Dean chuckled as Cas turned and sent him a harsh look. 

“Well, good news is nothing’s broken,” Dean said, his hand now gently rubbing the spot he had jabbed, “the bad news is that you’ve got a bruise the size of Texas back here.” Dean’s hand slowly mapped out where the bruise spread down to his mid back and around to the base of his neck. His hand lingered for a moment too long, his palm flat across his back before he pulled away. Cas could feel small prickles of pain return as Dean slowly slid his hand down off of his back.

“That bitch is gonna hurt in the morning,” Dean sighed, shaking his head. 

“Well, you are no better off” Cas pointed out, motioning to Dean’s bandaged leg. 

“What, this? This is nothing,” he shrugged, standing up. “Yours, on the other hand, is gonna need some more healing time.” Cas saw Dean’s face flicker with indecision.

“You know what,” Dean sighed, resolving his dilemma, “you can take the bed tonight.” 

“What?” Cas asked cautiously. Dean walked back to clear off his bed, but Cas wasn't buying it. He stood up and moved behind Dean. His feet took him a step too close and his chest was nearly pressed against Dean’s back. He could feel the heat radiating from him and his heart rate quickened as Dean reached down to reach the rest of the guns.

“I said- you should move your stuff before I change my mind,” Dean snapped, he still hadn't acknowledged Cas’ position. He’d probably yell at him. But Cas couldn't make himself move, instead his eyes roamed over Dean’s body leaning across the bed to reach each gun, his shirt tightening over his back, and Cas couldn't stop himself from drifting his eyes down to his jeans.

“Are you sure?” He asked hesitantly. It didn't feel right to steal Dean’s bed over a non substantial injury. 

He saw Dean take a deep breath, his shoulders rising then falling sharply. “Yes, now go move your bag.”

“I won’t take your bed, Dean.” He stated firmly.

“God Damnit Cas, just-!” Dean whipped around and choked on his words mid sentence when he nearly ran into Cas. He could tell Dean had not expected him so close, he hadn’t been this close since, well, since he was still an angel. 

Dean took a steadying breath. “I’m not giving you a choice-”

“No.” He leaned in closer to state his point. He felt exhilarated, his heart was pounding in his chest and he wasn't sure if it was from the argument or just from Dean’s shallow breath ghosting against his cheeks. 

“Get in the bed” Dean demanded, taking Cas’ bluff. Dean’s face was flushed. 

“Make me.” 

Dean lips smashed against his in a second; hands roughly grabbing his bare shoulders pulling their bodies together. Cas felt his heart rate explode as his mind left and his hands took control, desperately clawing at Dean’s back. His hands fisted in Dean’s hair as their tongues crashed together. Cas didn't know if he had started it but he knew he couldn't get enough of it. Dean’s mouth was hot and wet and he pushed their bodies even closer together until it was difficult to stand. 

The kiss was hot and painful, teeth clacked together as Dean grabbed Cas’ ass and he jumped, gasping down Dean’s throat. 

“Bed, now,” Dean gasped raggedly, barely separating their lips, and this time Cas did not argue. 

Cas managed to throw Dean’s shirt across the room before he was tossed onto the bed. His body shoulder winced in pain before Dean crawled up between his legs and settled above him, an arm on each side of Cas’ head. Dean looked like a wreck, his hair was sticking up in different directions from Cas’ desperate hands, his lips were full and panting as he stared down with blown pupils. 

And Cas had made him like this.

Dean leaned down and licked into Cas’ mouth, his hands gliding over Cas’ chest. His lips moved their attention to Cas’ jaw line, his tongue slowly sweeping over his neck and Cas threw his head back, a moan escaping his throat. He felt Dean smile as he kissed and licked down his throat, sucking at the pulse point and leaving Cas to grasp desperately at Dean’s back, nails slightly scraping his skin. His hands finally found Dean’s jeans and he worked blindly at the zipper as Dean dragged his lips down his chest. 

Dean gasped as Cas finally slipped his hand into his jeans and brushed against his leaking cock. Dean took the moment to help Cas kick his pants off his legs. Cas’ breathing quickened as he looked between them, only a thin layer of fabric separating their hard cocks. Then Dean paused.

“I’m kind of new at, well, this,” he panted reluctantly. Cas watched how his lips were still parted in a desperate attempt to regain his breath. Cas blatantly rolled his eyes at him in annoyance. He grabbed the back of Dean’s head and pulled him forward so that their mouths were brushing ever so slightly. 

“Well then we’ll both have to learn, won’t we?” he nearly growled. Dean shivered as Cas started the kiss, pushing his tongue through Dean’s blood shot lips. Dean groaned as both of their hands fumbling to slide off their boxers until Cas’ cock slid against the crook of Dean’s hip and he moaned down Dean’s throat. 

Dean grasped Cas’ cock in his hand and started pumping it slowly, and Cas threw his head back. He tried to thrust his hips into Dean’s hand but he offset the rhythm. Dean drew back from the kiss and stopped pumping his cock. 

Cas was left panting beneath Dean, wondering if he had just ruined the moment or if Dean didn't want to do this anymore, until Dean grabbed both of their cocks in one hand and began pumping them in long, slow strokes. Dean started thrusting his hips first this time, timing perfectly with his own strokes and Cas caught on, both of them slowly rolling their hips together. 

Cas became lost in the rhythm, his hands holding on desperately to Dean’s shoulders. Cas could feel himself slipping with each thrust, their precome mixing together as their thrusting became more erratic. Through soft moans Dean slowly moved a hand from the bed and grabbed Cas’ hand, intertwining their fingers on the sheets above Cas’ sweat slicked hair. 

Cas felt himself slipping over a cliff he hadn't even known existed until now, and with every roll of the hips Dean’s moans filled his senses. All he could feel was Dean’s cock sliding in time with his, Dean’s mouth on his ear as he gasped his name and with one last harsh thrust Cas’ eyes shot open as he came onto their stomachs. He thrust desperately into Dean’s hand, the entire world blurring as he heard himself moan Dean’s name, his head thrown forward into his the crook of his shoulder. 

He was barely regaining his senses when he felt Dean stiffen above him and he came with Cas’ name on his lips. Dean collapsed on top of Cas, both of them still desperately trying to regain their breath, their hands still intertwined on the rumpled sheets.

“Wow” Dean panted into the crook of Cas’ neck, and Cas couldn't have thought of a better word. 

Cas moved a hand to rub Dean’s back, the pain in his shoulder slowly returning, but not as badly as before. Dean carefully and slid off of Cas, their cum smearing across their stomachs as Dean wrapped an arm around Cas protectively, and Cas happily fell into Dean’s side. 

Nothing was said for a while, Cas traced his fingers along Dean’s chest and Dean ran his fingers through Cas’ hair. He tried not to look at Dean, almost out of embarrassment, but he caved and glanced up to see green eyes set on him. They stayed like that for a moment before Dean pressed his lips against Cas’. No tongue, no heat, but just something different, almost pure. Cas pulled away, their foreheads resting together. He felt Dean laugh and looked up.

“Wonder when Sammy’s gonna find out,” he chuckled lightly, his eyes downcast. Cas moved his hand up to cup Dean’s cheek.

“I’m sure that Sam will be fine with this.” He said with such certainty that Dean looked up and smiled.

“At least now we can get rid of that damn mattress,” he said jokingly, and Cas definitely agreed. 

Dean disconnected himself with Cas to lean down and get their boxers, no need to completely scar Sam when he came back that night. “Maybe I should put a sock on the door or something to make sure he doesn't come in and see this.” They had made a mess of the room. 

“Your choice,” Cas shrugged, and Dean leaned down to kiss him.

“I think Sam could live with one night sleeping in the Impala.” Dean smiled, and Cas smiled back. 

As Dean walked away top try and find a discarded sock, Cas kept smiling to himself. Everything that they had been through, everything that had happened, he had never even dreamed they would end up here.   
He sat up and found a shirt to wipe off the cum from his chest and patiently waited for Dean to come back to bed.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you all enjoyed and comments are lovely
> 
> *Spoilers for season 8* I was half way through writing this fic when Cas fell for real, and I wasn't sure if I should change it around but hey I needed something happy after that finale


End file.
